


until the past unfolds

by Mars_and_Moon



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crime, Angst, Drugs, Enjolras Was A Charming Young Man Who Was Capable Of Being Terrible, Enjolras-centric, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, Murder, Other, Past Relationship(s), Past criminal activity, Secret Past, Swearing, Tattoos, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_and_Moon/pseuds/Mars_and_Moon
Summary: Enjolras kept secrets. It was exactly his fault, it was necessary to keep everyone around him safe. Including himself. If secrets weren’t kept, it would royally fuck up everyone’s life around him. So he kept them, he didn’t talk about his family, he didn’t talk about his past, and he didn’t talk about the old tattoo he had, no matter how many times he was asked.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> PLOT: Enjolras was born and raised in an organized crime family. When he turned 20 he hoped the hell out of there. Meeting the Amis in the University he enrolled he could move on from the past he had, and all the bad deeds he committed. After much time of pining, he and Grantaire eventually ended up together. Enjolras went to law school, vowing to help people, not hurt them. He built a good life for himself, one that he loved. But when Jehan brings over their new boyfriend, things start crashing down. Somehow, Enjolras get's pulled back into the life he tried to forget he ever had. 
> 
> The best word to described Enjolras is unstable as hell in this, so just in advance, please remember that.
> 
> enjoy

Enjolras should have know everything would go to hell today.

The day started off fine, great even. He woke up next to Grantaire and smiled to himself, he got out of bed and went and made coffee. The smell of the coffee being made had gotten Grantaire out of bed, his curly hair was a mess and he was wearing on old university t-shirt and boxers. Enjolras found himself smiling again as he sipped his coffee.

Then, Enjolras had excused himself, he needed to shower, and put on his work clothes. Grantaire had began cooking breakfast as Enjolras left.

When he had come back, breakfast was done. It was simple, as it always was. Grantaire had scrambled some eggs, grabbed some apples, poured some coffee. He hadn’t changed out of what he slept in, not having to go to work for a few more hours.

After finishing breakfast, Enjolras was off to the law firm he worked at. He wanted to open his own one day, but for now he was definitely okay with the one he worked at. His boss was a firm yet kind lady, and the people he worked with truly loved what they did.

It started going to hell when he went for his lunch break.

There was this small little cafe within walking distance of his work, the employees were friendly and the food was really good.

When Enjolras had walked into the cafe, he got into the small line and waited. A man was standing in front of him, he seemed a little on the middle age side. What was strange was he was in a suit. Yes, Enjolras was in a suit as well, but the man's suit was tailored, and he had a gun on an inside pocket. Enjolras knew what that looked like.  

The gun part caused Enjolras to panic. The man didn’t seem like he wanted to pull out the gun, but he was in a position that said he would be more then willing to if the need arouse. Enjolras felt his posture change slightly, making himself seem taller, ready to fight. He hadn’t needed to, the man simply ordered a sandwich and a tea and went and sat down. But Enjolras could feels the man's eyes on him, he ordered quickly, the girl working the front knew him and his order already, so when Enjolras had forgotten to order a coffee in the rush, she added it.

Thanking the girl, and walking as fast as he could out of the little cafe without being suspicious, Enjolras pulled out his phone. He needed to call Grantaire. Make sure he was still in the studio and still painting. Not in one of the many terrible situations Enjolras was thinking of. When he picked up, Enjolras let out a breath of relief, and explained that he just wanted to say hello, and to see how Grantaire was doing. He could hear Grantaire roll his eyes, but he didn’t care. The man from the cafe wasn’t following him, and Grantaire was perfectly safe.

Enjolras still didn’t get much work done the rest of the day, though. His eyes wouldn’t focus and his mind kept wandering, going to places that really only starred in his nightmares every now and then. Texting Grantaire more then he would any other day, probably annoying the other man. But he couldn’t bring himself to care in the moment.

Enjolras all but ran out of the building when he could go home. He knew it was stupid, he knew Grantaire was okay, that his past was just that, his past. His family would never think to look in a nice loft, in a good area, in a law firm for him. Enjolras knew that. But he still walked faster than normal up the stairs to the loft.

When he opened the door he was hit with the smell of food cooking. Grantaire was in the kitchen, wearing a damn apron and standing over the stove.

“There you are!” Grantaire exclaimed, hearing the door close and Enjolras’s footsteps as he followed the smell.

“Here I am?” Enjolras reliped, confused.

“I thought you would be late,” Grantaire explained, turing back to the oven. He turned the heat up slightly and muttered, “por favor, que não pegue fogo,” to whatever food he was cooking. He always muttered in portuguese while cooking. Strings of curses, or little prayers. He explained once to Enjolras that he had picked it up from his mother. Enjolras thought it was adorable.

“Late for?” Enjolras questioned. His mind had been distracted, but he felt like he should remember what was happening.

Grantaire smirked. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“No?”

“Jehan’s bring their boyfriend over for dinner,” Grantaire reminded.

That explained the food. Grantaire would cook beans and rice with beef whenever someone would come over, and Enjolras had totally forgotten. Jehan had been talking about their new boyfriend for weeks. So when Grantaire had suggested they bring him over for dinner, they jumped at the chance to show him off, and to get to eat whatever Grantaire had cooked.

Enjolras wasn’t overly thrilled with the plan in the first place. He was weary of new people, it had been ingrained into his mind to be and it was one of the only things that he seemed to be unable to get rid of. Part of him didn’t fully mind it.

But now after today, Enjolras really wasn’t thrilled with it. All he really wanted was to hold Grantaire and hear him talk about his day. His perfectly normal day that didn’t involve any violence, or scares.

But unfortunately, there was a knock on the door, and Grantaire’s smile grew. So Enjolras forced a smile on, and told Grantaire he would get the door.

He had heard Jehan talk about their boyfriend. He was on the taller side, with short black hair and blue eyes. He was always well dressed and made them smile more then they had in a long time. But Enjolras had never actually gotten his name, he was pretty sure it started with an “M” but that was it. All in all, Enjolras didn’t hate the man yet, he seemed nice enough from what Jehan had said, and they seemed happy. And Grantaire seemed happy that people were coming over. So Enjolras was going to try.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, and he was very thankful that he wasn’t holding anything. he would have dropped it  

Because he recognized the man beside Jehan.

It was Montparnasse.  

Suddenly there was a flicker of a memory Enjolras had shoved down years and years ago.

 

_The room was dark, and two boys were laying on a bed. Their hands were in one another's hair, and their shirts were pushed up._

_“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” Enjolras said, pulling back from a kiss_

_“Shut up Enj, it’s not like it’s against the rules,” Montparnasse replied. He sounded giddy, and was trying to pull the blonde back into a kiss._

_“But still we’re supposed to be-” Enjolras wasn’t able to finish the sentence, Montparnasse had put and hand over his mouth and was rolling his eyes._

_“Just kiss me, you blonde idiot.”_

_“Such a gentleman, Monty.”_

 

Enjolras was snapped out of the memory when Montparnasse stuck out his hand and introduced himself. There was no sign of remembrance on his face. Just a smile that didn’t quite fully reach eyes.

And then, everything started going to hell.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Montparnasse couldn't help but meddle a little bit with blondie's new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written from Montparnasse's POV. 
> 
> Most chapters will be Enjolras's POV, with the occasional other person. Just to mix it up.

Montparnasse didn’t react upon seeing Enjolras. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself. Walked into the loft and said he liked the art on the walls. He stayed civil at seeing blondie.

Jehan hadn’t mentioned him though. They had said they had a friend who was a lawyer that Montparnasse might like, said the friend was nice enough, that he had a love of red and blonde hair that went down to shoulders. 

Perhaps that’s why Montparnasse didn’t put it together, the friend Jehan talked about had sounded like Enjolras, a much calmer, less violent Enjolras, but Enjolras nonetheless. 

Except for the hair. Enjolras’s father hated long hair on boys, so he would always force them all to cut it short. Of course blondie had grown it out when he left, it was already longer than it should have been when he did leave. Of course. 

Enjolras hadn’t actually said anything to him, other than the greeting he gave when Jehan and him had walked in. Montparnasse was okay with that. But, he hadn't been able to be alone with blondie’s boyfriend yet. He wanted to know how much Enjolras had told his boyfriend about himself. 

Luckily after the four of them had eaten, Enjolras had dragged Jehan off somewhere. 

“You ever notice anything weird about Enjolras?” Montparnasse asked Grantaire, once the man in question was gone.

“How do you mean?” Grantaire responded.   


“I don’t know, like a tattoo, maybe?” Montparnasse pointed at a general spot under his ribs. “Here, maybe.”

“Well, yeah he has a tattoo.”

“Does he now?” Montparnasse replied. 

“Yeah, I don’t really know what it’s supposed to be, but it looks nice.” Grantaire shrugged. He didn't seemed to be phased by all the questions.

“What about his parents?” Montparnasse pressed. 

“Doesn’t talk about them much, homophobic douchebags that pretty much disowned him when he came out.”

“Any other family?” 

“No one that he talks to.”

“What about friends?” 

“Well yeah, I mean there’s Combeferre, Feuilly, Courfeyrac, Jehan-” Grantaire started listing off names.

“No like friends from before he met any of you,” Montparnasse interrupted. Friends is a very loose term for what he would have had back then, but it would work.

“Not that I know of.” 

“He doesn't talk about his past much, does he?”

“No, not really.”

“Doesn’t that bother you”

“I mean, not really. I know that he didn’t have an easy childhood and that his parents constantly hounded him to join up with the family business. I know that a lot of the memories hurt him and if he needs to talk about he knows I’m open to listening,” Grantaire explained. He seemed to really care about blondie.

“Sounds like a good relationship.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” 

No other words were shared between the two. In fact, there was almost no sound in the room, except for breathing.

Soon though, the two men heard footsteps.

And shouting. 

Montparnasse recognized Jehan’s voice, they didn't shout very often, so he was concerned and yet, interested, in what Enjolras had said to them. He had a few guesses, most of them included some form of warnings about Montparnasse. 

“I think I can watch out for myself Enjolras!” 

Montparnasse took that as a sign that he should get ready to leave. 

He was right. When Jehan walked into the kitchen-dining room combo, their face flushed from yelling, they grabbed his arm and announced that the two of them would be leaving. Immediately. 

Montparnasse didn't argue, just allowed himself to be pulled out of the loft, while listening to Jehan muttering under their breath. 

He could hear Grantaire asking Enjolras what he had said to piss off Jehan so much, Montparnasse wasn't sure if blondie answered, because he and Jehan were out of hearing range. 

A smirk made its way to way to Montparnasses’ face, as he added up what he had learned tonight. 

He planned a phone call he would be making later when he made his way back to the hotel he was staying at. 

This information, would be end up being very useful. Montparnasse was sure of it.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot? Clifthanger-ish? Yeah I guess


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras can't seem to ever get away from his father, or the family business. Now he's considering moving --possible out of the country--, changing his name, and maybe getting plastic surgery. At this point, who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Updates won't be consistent" I said, and I was right.

Enjolras had decided to  _ attempt _ to forget the absolute mess that the dinner from the previous week had brought. 

But, judging by the fact that a random girl was standing in his living room, clearly armed, clearly haven broken in, and clearly worked for his father, he wasn’t going to succeed very well.

The first thought he had was maybe now it was a good time to start looking for a new place to live. He had always had a nagging feeling that his father sent people to watch him, but now, the danger had gone up considering someone had  _ broken in _ . The second thought that crossed his was wondering how much Jehan would mind if he killed Montparnasse. 

He shook his head, quickly getting rid of the image that he found its way into his mind. Instead, he tried to focus on the girl who was standing in front of him. She was young, probably not over seventeen. The thought sent a pang into Enjolras’s chest.

She was short, her black hair put up into a bun. Her eyes were brown and she had a gun, two knives, and could probably break every bone in his body. But she wasn’t standing like she was the most armed person in a room. She stood like she was a soldier waiting for orders.

Her brown eyes scanned Enjolras.  _ Looking for weapons _ , a back part of Enjolras’s mind supplied. She seemed surprised that he wasn’t armed, a flicker of confusion crossed her face, she quickly masked it. 

She walked closer to Enjolras, he saw that she had envelope in her hands. She held it out for him to take, her eyes never leaving him. She said nothing as Enjolras took it, but quickly moved back to where she had been originally standing. 

Hesitantly, Enjolras looked at the envelope. He recognized the hand writing immediately. It was his father’s. The sight of the slightly curled letters instantly put a feeling of dread in him. Knowing that it would be better to just get it over with and read whatever the contents the letter contained, he ripped the envelope open. The force caused the front to tear, small victories. 

 

_ Dear Son,  _

 

Enjolras let out a cold laugh. His father had never thought of him as dear.

 

_ I know that you will read this.  _

 

Great, it was already overly ominous. 

 

_ I write to you, seeking help.  _

 

He stopped reading, knowing what “seeking help” meant. His eyes quickly scanned over the rest of the letter. His father wanted him to help him with a job. 

Glaring at the letter, Enjolras wished he had a fireplace to throw it into. “My parents want to have a meeting with me.” Enjolras said slowly. His voice was deadly calm.

“Yes,” She responded, speaking for the first time. Briefly he wondered how long she had been in the apartment, or if this wasn’t her first time in it. Shaking his head and focusing on the girl, he pulled his train of thought to the flicker of discomfort in he had heard in her voice, the fearfulness of his reaction. 

Enjolras had been known as the man you did not want to piss off under any circumstances. It made him want to punch a wall that the reputation still stood..  

“Okay.” Enjolras was conflicted, he had very little doubt that his father would be merciful on the girl if she told him what Enjolras wanted her to.

The girl’s stance shifted into more scared then uncomfortable, like she was waiting for him to do something. “I’m just the messenger,” she reminded. “I’m doing my job.” Her expression had changed now, a need to not show fear was etched onto her face.

Enjolras needed a loophole of sorts, telling his father to fuck right off, while making sure the girl in front of him wouldn’t be blamed. Part of him said that it didn’t really matter if she was blamed, she was mostly likely into crime before she had joined his father. He reminded himself that she was seventeen, and still had a chance of finding a way out. After all Enjolras had.  

Glancing down at the crumpled letter in his hand, an idea struck him. “I’ll write a letter. You’ll deliver it straight to my father.” 

She nodded quickly at the half-order Enjolras had given. She would do it, no matter what. Her unwavering loyalty of what she was doing put a stop to her being able to get out one day. She was there because she wanted to be. 

“Would you like something to eat?” Enjolras asked. He would be nice to this girl, loyal to his father or not, lord knew she deserved it. 

She seemed shocked at the question, her face quickly filled with suspicion, but nodded slightly. Hunger seemingly outweighing whatever else. 

Enjolras didn’t say anything, just gestured for her to follow him. She did, making no noise as she walked, causing Enjolras to turn and make sure she was actually there. His footsteps were barely noticeable as well. One of the first things he tried to remove from his old life. He had succeeded enough in doing so. 

The short walk to the kitchen-dining room combo was uneventful, he pointed towards the table, a nonverbal signal for the girl to sit down. There were leftovers from last nights --chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed cauliflower with cheeses sauce-- and they were all probably better not heated up in a microwave, but it would do. As an afterthought, he grabbed the girl a cup of water, and placed both on the table in front of her. 

Her posture hadn’t changed when she sat down, still on edge. 

“It’s not poisoned,” Enjolras said. “I ate it, and I’m still kicking.” 

The girl didn’t say anything, just grabbed the fork and poked at chicken, staring at it. Deeming it safe enough, she took a small bite. Apparently the microwave didn’t make it any worse for her. She seemed focused completely on the food, and Enjolras took that as an escape to go grab some paper, a pen, and an envelope. 

He walked to The small room that had somehow been turned into Enjolras’s office and Grantaire’s painting studio had the lights turned off. The thought of Grantaire caused a panicked feeling, Enjolras checked the time, before remembering that Grantaire had told him he would be out later, having made plans with Joly and Bossuet. 

Returning with what he needed, he saw that the girl had taken to poking at the mashed potatoes. She deemed them safe as well. He sat down across from her, not saying anything. For some time the only sounds were the pen against paper, and fork scraping against the plate.

Enjolras finished writing quicker then he thought. But the girl had finished eating, and downed the cup of water. 

Scribbling his father's name onto the envelope, and shoving the letter in none to gently, he handed the letter off to the girl. She took that as a sign that her stay was up, and quickly removed herself from her chair.

She left via the window --they lived on the third story what the _ hell is she thinking _ \-- the letter in her hands, and Enjolras was alone with his thoughts.

Which, in hindsight, he should have realized was a bad idea.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why didn't Enjolras change his name, move out of the county, or get plastic surgery?" You ask. 
> 
> "Plot." I responed
> 
> Anyway, the actual full plot is showing up now, which means Enjolras is starting to lose the little stablitiy he has in life, which is always fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be slow because this is not pre-written and honestly is more of something i've been wanting to write for a while for myself because i have an unhealthy love of crime au's so, here it is.


End file.
